Let's Go Our Own Way
by Nico-Chan
Summary: 30 Kisses. LargoMuarim. Photographs and moments throughout time. We'll make our own path, follow our own road, go our own way. /5: Hey, you know.../
1. Amazing

Author's Note: This is the first kiss I've done for my 30 kisses challenge of Largo/Muarim. This is a cute pairing which is quite underrepresented in both terms of coupling and the characters themselves. Reviews are appreciated, of course. 

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_ (#15; True Blue)_  
Amazing

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"It's real amazing isn't it?" 

The question had come so suddenly and unexpectedly that Muarim had to sit up in surprise and look over towards his friend , who was lying beside him, staring upwards with the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"The sky?" Muarim questioned curiously, his tail sashaying behind him casually. He cocked his head slightly when the other man didn't return a prompt reply. His right ear twitched ever-so-slightly before he opened his mouth again, "Lar-"

"No, that big apple tree over there. _Of course _the sky!" Largo rolled his head to face his companion and grinned broadly, a playful tone creeping into his deep voice. "What did you think I meant?"

Muarim bowed his head in embarrassment, a light pink blush splashing over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. He self-consciously reached up and scratched at his twitching ear and murmured a simple 'ah…' before falling silent.

Largo laughed then, a hearty and loud noise, and sat himself up. "Aww, don't be embarrassed Muarim! People make mistakes. I didn't mean to wound your pride."

"My pride is not wounded…"Muarim grumbled back, his voice betraying his words.  
Largo chuckled again and reached over to squeeze the Laguz's knee.

Muarim slowly raised his head and averted his gaze when Largo tried to catch it, he then settled for staring upwards at the sky feeling somewhat childish that he couldn't even bare to look the other man in the face.

They sat that way for a few moments, Muarim's eyes looking at the expansive sky around them, and Largo with his large hand gently stroking the Laguz's knee.

Largo then moved his hand away from his friend's knee and rested it atop his hand, entwining their fingers wordlessly. He earned the Laguz's gaze then and the two stared at each other for an long instant until Muarim finally spoke, his voice somewhat distant.

"It is amazing."


	2. Good Night

Author's Note: Second kiss completed. This one wasn't so hard, though the ending gave me some trouble, but nothing I couldn't handle. Reviews are appreciated, as always.

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_(#24; Good Night)_  
Good Night

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His arm muscles ached dully from the strain of carrying heavy boxes filled to the brim with supplies and important necessities. He had offered his assistance to the caravan which traveled alongside the Crimean Army and they had been quick to take him up on his offer. Muston had him cart heavy barrels filled with all types of iron weapons all across the camp. The brothers had used him to gather materials they needed for the forging of items, and Aimee had used his back for the last hour as the private cart of her personal belongings. It should have been against the law to have so possessions. 

Now he was returning to his tent, surprisingly tired and sore. He attributed the spasms in his muscles to the battle the day before, in which he had been forced to hold the right flank of the battlefield on his own until he had received reinforcements. Dealing with so many cavaliers and sword masters had exhausted him by the time his friends had arrived to help him fight them off. Had they not shown when they had, he was sure he would have been dead now.

He stifled an unseemly yawn and slowed his pace as he arrived at his tent, his sore feet dragging against the dirt ridden ground. When the tips of his fingers touched the rough fabric of his tent flap he heard a voice which broke him out of his personal reverie. At the sound of his name he took a polite step backwards and turned to face his grinning friend.

"Hey, Muarim." Largo greeted brightly, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He made a show of looking the laguz up and down before clucking his tongue and chuckling softly. "You look like you got run over by a horse." When Muarim's face took a sour expression, the corners of his mouth turning downwards and his eyes narrowing in annoyance, Largo broke out into laughter.

The tiger couldn't keep his briny expression and his face softened into a small smile. The merriment in his friend's laugh always seemed to elevate his mood. When Largo quelled his outbreak he casually placed his hands on Muarim's shoulders. "Of course I don't mean anything by that, my friend." Largo explained. Muarim snorted softly. "Of course not."

Largo's grin changed then, to something softer. He moved his head close and gently came to rest his forehead against Muarim's. He muttered something that the tiger only heard thanks to his enhanced hearing. Muarim scowled, "You need a bath as well." he countered softly.

Largo pulled their heads apart and he smiled brilliantly. "Ah, you heard me."  
"You knew I would." Muarim professed calmly. Largo chuckled, almost to himself, and confessed.

"Yeah. Yeah I did. Heh…"

A silence proceeded his words which was both strangely comfortable and yet awkward. During this time the sky grew even darker and the sounds of crickets met Muarim's ears. He knew soon all the camp would be able to hear the sweet lullaby played by the insects, but at this point only the laguz with their superior senses could hear the beginning of the moonlit symphony.

Muarim cleared his throat, "I'll make sure to bathe tomorrow. I'm very tired tonight…" Largo didn't answer but leaned forward towards the tiger's face. Muarim felt his cheeks blaze up in warmth and his mouth dry out. He parted his lips slightly, anticipating what was about to come only to feel Largo's breath warm against his mouth.

"Good night."

Largo was then gone, retreating into his own tent. Muarim stood numbly for over a minute, his cheeks a rosy red shade, and his mouth parted slightly. The normal color seeped back into his face, and he licked his lips before closing them firmly. A dull ache gently reminded him of his tired body. His mouth turned up in a gentle smile before going inside to rest.


	3. Blood

Authors Note: Reviewing is kind, of course. Please enjoy. Revised the layout to make it more uniform with the other chapters.

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_ (#19; Red)_  
Blood

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It stained everything. 

Red.

Crimson, sticky, warm. It coated the ground and the grass, contrasting with the grass' color sharply, mixing with the brown and orange of the dirt, and the gray of the stones. It lingered in pools, in stripes; in delicate patterns and exotic shapes resembling letters of a forgotten alphabet. It seemed to gleam in the sunlight, reflecting the violent shade towards the sepia of the tree trunks littered around the area.

Blood.

It took him only a few moments to spot the origin of the disgusting art spectacle. It took him even less time to fall onto his knees, white pants becoming burgundy ,and his arms to pull the warrior close. Time seemed to stand still as bloodied bare skin came into contact with his grimy shirt dying it angry purple as the blood seeped into the fabric.

"Largo, open your eyes!" He growled, his voice steady even as he looked over the large man's injuries. A deep gash in his abdomen, a cut knee, long slashes along his right arm. The rest had been swallowed up by the sea of blood which unabashedly came from the laceration on his midsection. He quickly pulled his white bandanna off and pushed it gently against the opening it an attempt to slow the blood.

"..Mm…Mw…im?"

Muarim's eyes then caught Largo's pained stare. Largo forced a weary grin, a trickle of crimson escaping the corner of his mouth and trailing down his cheek only to get caught in the man's beard, mixing violet and red. "Muarim….they got me good, buddy…"  
"Shh. You need to save your strength." Muarim comforted softly, his voice not even coming above a whisper.

Largo closed his eyes and groaned in agony before opening them again, his look hazy and unfocused. "…Myrmidon…" He murmured. "Fast fellow….didn't see 'em coming." "Shh." Muarim hushed, a little more forcefully than before. "I need to get help Largo. Rhys or Mist or…"

The Berserker grunted in response. "No…don't go." "I have too. If I don't go now…"  
"I'm dyin'…" Largo gasped out, pain evident in his voice. Muarim growled low in his throat. "No, you are not." He retorted stoically. Largo released a quivering breath and coughed roughly, tiny flecks of blood flying from his open mouth to tag Muarim's face. The tiger didn't even flinched, and instead leaned closer in concern, his eyes widening slightly and his mouth agape.

"Lar-" but he was cut off by another coughing fit. He pulled the muscular man tighter against him, the slimy warmth of fresh blood coating his arms. "…Don't want….regrets…"Largo managed, forcing one of his charming smiles. Muarim knew that smile well. It was the wide, friendly look that Largo had given him when they first met. It was usually full of warmth and kindness, but not now. Now it was red and weak and forced. It was a lie of a smile.

"Glad….you're here…." Largo murmured dreamily. Muarim felt a sense of urgency rise in his chest; panic. He turned his head towards where he knew some of the others were still fighting. "Medic!" He shouted, his voice piercing the trees around them. "We need a medic! Quickly!"

Largo's voice drew the tiger's attention back to him and he found his eyes gazing deeply into dark hazy orbs. "…You're my…best friend." He said wistfully. He chuckled a little, and his face contorted into pain. With a soft grunt he reached up and placed his hand on Muarim's cheek. The Laguz's eyes widened and apprehension rose in his throat before he whispered, softer than he think he may have ever spoke before, "Largo…?"

There was no response and his hand slid down the tiger's face leaving behind a trail of dirt and blood before slipping from its place and landing on the ground with a thud. Muarim swallowed with difficulty and leaned his head forward. "…Largo?" His voice was filled with hesitation and fear. "Largo?" he questioned again, his hands suddenly on the beorc's face. "Largo?!"

He quickly looked over his shoulder, "MEDIC! WE NEED ASSITANCE NOW! RIGHT NOW! HURRY UP!" He shouted. "HURRY!" He turned back to look at his friend, his best friend, and felt a strange welling of emotion raise in his heart. His eyes stung and soon his tears fell onto Largo's chest diluting the coat of blood covering him.  
"Lar-" his voice broke and his chest heaved forcefully. A pitiful mewl came from deep within his throat and he clutched the other man's shoulders for dear life.

"Don't die. Please don't die.." He begged, pushing his face against the other mans. His forehead pushed roughly against Largo's cheek and he drew in a shaky breath before he elevated his head to stare directly down at the prone warrior under him.

"_Don't…"_ he pleaded before pressing his lips against the other man's desperately in vain hope of receiving a response.

The pained roar which ripped across the battlefield was chilling to the soul.


	4. Delusion

A/n: Revised and made the chapter's appearance more uniform. Fixed a few misc errors I found as well. Hopefully everything reads better now.

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_(#3; Jolt!)  
_Delusion

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The wind blew gently against the firmness of his body, cooling his heated flesh. Muarim's smile was wider than he thought it had ever been. There was so much to be joyful for. The day was beautiful. The sun was brilliant against the pastel blue sky, and the clouds were balls of cotton bringing shade to the earth.

Muarim himself enjoyed the cover from the sun, thanks to the clouds overhead. He knew he would only be able to enjoy the protection from the sunlight until the cloud floated away from him and off into the horizon to bring it's gift of shade to others. He didn't mind though. The day was pleasant and lazy. He wasn't even sure why he was here, at this place, but didn't question it. Why ruin such a perfect day with pointless inquires?

Muarim could lay for eternity staring at the expansive sky above him ,but chose not to. Instead, he sat up and brushed grass out of his thick green hair. He looked to Largo at his side and chuckled softly, the rumble low in his throat. Reaching over he shook the berserker gently, raising the man from his slumber.

"Mmm….Opps. Fell asleep there." Largo grinned widely, only taking a moment before he was fully awake and also up, his hand on the Laguz's muscular back. "Where were we?" He asked playfully, scooting closer to the Laguz so their sides were touching. Muarim smiled and shook his head slightly, "No where. We weren't doing anything, Largo."  
"Yet!" The berserker said with a laugh, quickly pushing the laguz down and climbing over him. His hands rested on either side of Muarim's head and he straddled the other man's waist.

"Heh, I win."

Muarim raised an eyebrow but didn't fight him, seeming content to leave the man to his own designs. Largo pulled Muarim's shirt up and quickly got it off of his body before diving down and pushing his mouth atop the other mans. Muarim was quick to reciprocate, opening his mouth and pushing his tongue against Largo's, wrapping his thick arms around the muscular man and squeezing him slightly.

The berserker chuckled into the tiger's mouth and ran his hands along Muarim's body boldly, his large fingers grazing the Laguz's sides and furry tail. He then broke the kiss and grinned down at the flushed laguz. Silently he moved his mouth down to Muarim's neck where he began to kiss and lick his way towards his chest. Muarim could feel the heat of Largo's breath on his body and he purred slightly, the sound deep and throaty.

Largo's hands continued to wander his body, dipping lower and lower until he ran the palm of his hand across Muarim's stomach. He moved down the nape of Muarim's neck and nipped him playfully, earning a guttural groan from the green tiger. His hands went lower, playing with the waistband on Muarim's pants. "I think I know what you want." Largo said against Muarim's nipple, tickling the sensitive flesh and sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

"W-what?" Muarim panted, his pulse quickening in excitement. All his senses seemed heightened and that's when he smelt something strange.

Copper.

At that moment everything came back to him. He shot up quickly. The blueness of the sky faded into a corn silk tent, Largo vanished, and the sun disappeared all together.  
Before him lay Largo, bloodied and unmoving. Rhys hovered over him, whispering prayers and waving his healing rod over the inanimate man. Tormod sat in a chair near the bed Largo laid upon, holding his own healing rod in his lap.

Rhys stopped praying for a moment and staggered, and at that moment Tormod jumped up. "Sit down Rhys, I'll do it now." He declared. Rhys blinked his eyes tiredly, his entire face pale. "But I-" "No buts." Tormod interrupted, not even looking towards the sickly priest. He held out the wand and closed his eyes. "Rest." He commanded softly.

Rhys sighed and walked to the chair the boy had been occupied when he seemed to notice Muarim for the first time. He smiled tiredly and sat down, transfixing the laguz with sad eyes. "Did you sleep well?"

Muarim never wanted to wake up again.


	5. Mitigate

A/n: Alright, I enjoyed this one. I was originally going for the theme 'Look over here' but as I was writing it seemed to fit this theme better. The ending was originally much different than how it is now and I had to consider what I thought was the most in character, proper end. I decided this was best, and I hope everyone else agrees.

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_(#6; The Space Between a Dream and Reality)  
_Mitigate

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It was brighter than he remembered.

"Hey, Muarim…"

The grass was an amazingly brilliant shade of green.

"Hey…Muarim."

The sky was blue. The type of blue you could get lost in with just a glance.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

Red. The little one's hair. Flames from a campfire. Blood.

"Damnit man, you're starting to get on my nerves!"

It was the tent.

The space between his dreams and reality shifted in and out of Muarim's focus. Tress, sky, and tent all floating around in his head as he tried to grasp for the truth.

"Are you up yet?"

The voice was comforting. Deep, clear and teasing. He didn't want to wake up. He wanted to stay in his half-sleep, and continue to listen to the friendly voice. It would be gone if he woke up. It would die with the fallen comrade he found the day before, the man he had come to consider a friend.

It went silent anyway.

Muarim fought waking. He fought letting the cruelty of reality present itself to him again, no matter how futile his attempts were. He was not usually one to hide from the world, but this time he didn't want to face it. Muarim knew what he would find when he awoke, and a dull feeling filled his body. His throat tightened.

"Don't….wake up."

"Huh? What?"

It wasn't his voice.

"…Don't…wake up."

Friendly competition, bars, boasting, and all forms of memories treaded through his mind. Laughing when Largo's dart missed its mark and almost became embedded within Makalov's hair. Sleeping near the creek because Largo brought liquor to drink as he bathed and couldn't even walk straight after consuming to many bottles. Warmth against his skin as they sat closely under a large tree which provided enough shade for six men.

Cherished thoughts which filled him with sickness instead of nostalgia.

"What the heck is up with you? Wake up already!"

And Muarim did.

Muarim moved up into a sitting position slowly and clumsily, his joints complaining of stiffness from the extended stay on a makeshift cot. His vision slowly cleared from a cloudy bleariness and his nose was assaulted with a number of smells; iron, medicine and soap.

He was awake.

Muarim wouldn't be able to explain himself even later on when he would be questioned about his actions by Rhys and Tormod. He wasn't even sure he could comprehend what he was seeing, his mind still waking from his troubled sleep. He leaned forward, the ache in his back dull and insignificant, and he gawked.

"You okay, Muarim?" Largo asked from where he sat on the medical cot. White bandages were wrapped around his bare chest, and an itchy looking wool blanket covered his legs. He grinned widely as if greeting Muarim outside on an uneventful day and scratched the side of his face with his large hand.

Muarim didn't expect to cry.


	6. Chaste

A/n: Glad I finally churned out another chapter. Also got to include Calill in this one. I was gonna go for "say ah…" or even "look over here." but somehow I ended up with "Hey, you know…" instead. I think this is a good chapter, and hope everyone enjoys it. It's a bit of a different chapter than normal, as it's the first which doesn't prominently follow Muarim.

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(_#5;"Hey, you know…")_  
Chaste

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Largo wasn't one for idling. Even with his arm in a sling he was determined to be useful around the camp. Ike had already kept him off the battlefield once due to his injury, and Largo wasn't at ease with simply bumming around the campgrounds while all of his friends were off fighting a good fight. If the Princess of Crimea herself was doing all she could, and she was a woman, there was no way he was going to be deadweight. 

During the fighting Largo made sure to supervise the soldier's inventory, and even ran a lance out to Tauroneo ,who was busy fending off an entire unit of halberdiers. He darted in and out of the clashing soldiers, and was nearly feathered by enemy arrows once or twice, but he managed to evade all of the attacks and return to camp unscathed.

After the battle he made himself available to the healers of the army, carrying staves and helping move patients. Even without the use of an entire arm, Largo still had a strong back, and could easily carry people of a smaller build, like Sothe, into the medic tent to be treated for injuries. Once he had finished his duties there, he assisted Oscar in handing food out to the battle weary soldiers.

Largo didn't think of his work as overcompensation, but rather making use of his spot in the Crimean Army. He was getting paid, and his conscience wouldn't allow him the luxury of being paid for nothing. With that in mind, Largo made rounds about the campgrounds to see what soldiers he could be of assistance to in any way possible.

That was how he found himself ducking into Calill's tent with a friendly grin. "Hey, Calill." He greeted in an easy going manner, standing to his full height. The mage looked up from the large book she was studying and smiled assertively in response to him. "Hello Largo. How are your injuries?" She queried, putting the book aside and standing up, dusting her mage's garb absently.

Largo chuckled dismissively. "Fine. I feel pretty good, actually."

"You always did heal quickly." Calill said, crossing her arms in amusement. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yeah, I was actually here to see if you needed help with anything." Largo replied, taking a deep breath and enjoying the feminine scent of Calill's perfume.

"Oh not really..." Calill said, looking about the tent absently for something she could make him do. Finding nothing she turned her face back to him with a giggle. "Bored?"

"Yeah, kinda." He replied, shrugging his uninjured shoulder. "Just trying to be useful. Make sure the General is getting his money's worth and all."

"Isn't that sweet." Calill murmured, before apologetically shrugging at him. "I'm sorry dear, I really have nothing I can make you do….aside from some laundry." Largo wrinkled his nose.

"No thanks. You can do your own laundry."

"I figured that would be your response." Calill grinned, "You're such a brute."

"What can I say? I'm a man." Largo responded with pride.

Calill raised her eyebrows, "Yes. I know." She muttered in a deadpan.

"Well, if that's it, then I better see if anyone else needs anything." Largo said, turning to leave, before Calill stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. He turned back to her questioningly. "Yeah?"

"I actually had a question for you, so I don't see why I shouldn't ask you now that I have you all to myself." Calill explained with an intelligent, logical tone. That tone of voice always made Largo feel as if he was a child listening to an adult informing him about something he shouldn't break, even though he would probably end up breaking it anyway.

"Oh, you're not gonna try to ravish my body or anything are you?" He asked, "My arm is still pretty sore." He grinned as he motioned to his weak arm. Calill raised her eyebrows again and clucked her tongue against the top of her mouth.

"No dear," she sighed. "I don't want to ravish you today."

"Oh, good. So what is it?"

Calill smiled a slightly suggestive smile and sat down on the edge of her cot, crossing her long legs as elegantly as a woman could, before she spoke, "I wanted to ask you about that laguz man you are always with."

"Mm, Muarim? What about him?" Largo questioned, placing his free hand on his muscular hip. Calill's smile grew. She folded her hands in her lap daintily.

"I just wanted to know if you and he were…"

"…were?" Largo repeated

"…were possibly more than friends." She finished. She watched Largo blink a second as his brain processed the information, before he smiled at her and shrugged his good shoulder again.

"Not really. Not yet. Just friends."

"Not yet?" She asked, turning her head to the side slightly, exposing more of her long neck.

"Not yet." He confirmed. "Can I go now?"

"Just a moment." Calill stood up, brushing her dress off with her left hand. She pushed a free strand of blonde hair behind her ear with her right hand then strolled to him. She raised her hands up and placed them on the sides of his face, on his cheeks, before standing on her tip toes to give him a chaste peck on the lips. She pulled back and met his eyes with her own bright blue ones before she let go of him completely and moved back a few feet from him.

"Alright. Now you can go."

Largo grinned, and left the tent wordlessly.


End file.
